Chapter Text
Shoto has not been alive for very long, and he may be very naive to the outside world, but there was one thing he was certain of; he was in love with Midoriya Izuku.
Shoto’s life started approximately four months, fourteen days, and seven hours ago. He was born in a lab, to a man who was only slightly less than a tyrant. His name was Endeavor, but he insisted Shoto call him father. Whatever that term meant, he had no clue. In the beginning stages of his life, Shoto did not know he could make choices for himself, so Endeavor from that point on was always referred to as father.
Father explained to him on his very first day of life that Shoto’s purpose in life was to be his assistant in his day to day life. Father was old, and he wasn’t the mad scientist he once was, or so he said. Shoto agreed to it without hesitation— he looked back now and cringed at how obedient he used to be— because Father was his creator, he quite literally owed him his life.
Shoto’s insides were only made up of straw and leaves, the only human things inside of him were his brain and his heart. Father did not say where he got either, and so Shoto never prodded for an answer. He was quite literally a science experiment that had somehow ended up successful. He was a walking, talking, breathing… thing. Father never referred to Shoto as a human, and so neither did he. Though, sometimes he liked to pretend he was.
Shoto’s skin was made up of a pale colored canvas like fabric. It was rough, and in some places there was stitch work holding him together. It is what reminded him that he was not as human as he would like to think.
During Shoto’s very first month of life, he learned a lot of things. Father taught him the Japanese language, to which he picked up quite quickly. Father had been pleased with him then, muttering something about Shoto being his greatest creation yet. Father soon realized during that first month that Shoto was much more intelligent than they both could ever imagine. Whoever’s brain he stole must have been some sort of genius. Every time Shoto was taught something new, he picked it up in just a few hours.
So instead of Father sitting down with him and teaching him these very important things orally, he gave him books. All sorts of books to read and analyze throughout the entire day while Father worked around the lab. His first assignment was to finish ten books within the week, but Shoto had finished them in mere hours. Learning things was fun. His brain was filled with thoughts and questions about the world, and the people that lived in said world. He had no idea there was more beyond the lab.
Within that first month, Shoto finished all the textbooks in Father’s bookshelf.
During his second month of life, Shoto was finally put into his role as Father’s assistant. It was fun at first, helping Father around the lab, bringing him chemicals from shelves, writing lab reports—Shoto really loved writing— and sorting through files. It was all so fun, especially the filing part. He really enjoyed that.
After about two weeks though, it got a bit boring and repetitive. Shoto had just learned so much about Earth, and how it worked and where it sat in the universe. He thought, maybe, he would get the chance to see it soon. Innocently, he brought it up to Father, and instantly was shut down with a slap to the face so hard the corner of his mouth tore open.
Father was angry with him. Shoto had read about this term before. The definition being; a strong feeling of annoyance, displeasure, or hostility. He was not sure what he had done to make father annoyed, or displeased, or hostile. He had asked a simple question. After Father yelled at him that evening, and after he was sent back to his quarters, Shoto felt sad. It was a vague emotion, but it is what he thought he was feeling.
He was sad Father felt the need to yell at him and to bring him physical pain. From that point on, in the middle of his second month of life, Shoto decided that he would no longer ask questions. For he was a mere creation, and he had no right to interrogate his creator for the sole purpose of satiating his curiosity.
During the beginning of his third month was when Father began treating him differently. He was angry more often than he was happy, and he hit Shoto a lot. For no reason. He did not understand why. And Father never explained himself— though he did not need to. If Shoto asked, he would probably be thrown into a firepit and burned from the inside out. He was very flammable after all.
It was not until a very important day that Shoto got the answer to that question.
It was during his third month, sixth day, and fifth hour that Midoriya Izuku rang their doorbell and let in a whole whirlwind of new possibilities for Shoto.
“Hello, Endeavor-san! I’m Midoriya Izuku, from Yagi’s place, just across the village—?”
“I’m aware of who you are. Now what business do you have with me?”
Shoto was told to wait upstairs, but he just could not. Nobody had ever rang the doorbell before. The noise had really scared him at first. But the person that created the noise did not.
Midoriya Izuku was… unnaturally beautiful. Shoto had learned both words while studying the Japanese dictionary. The definition of beautiful went as follows; pleasing the senses or mind aesthetically. Shoto's mind was certainly pleased the longer he stared at Midoriya Izuku. His eyes were a very vibrant green, and he had small dots on both of his cheeks, four on each one. His hair was wildly managed, and a dark shade of green.
Midoriya Izuku was beautiful. Shoto’s heart was hurting and beating very fast. His brain felt like it was malfunctioning, but he was not a robot. He was practically a doll, much less complexly made.
After Midoriya Izuku left—Shoto was sad when he did— he snuck back up to the lab and tried to calm his heart before Father returned. When he did, he went on a tangent about Yagi showing him up once again. Shoto did not know who Yagi was, and for the first time since his second month of life, he allowed himself to ask a question.
He was surprised when he was not met with a slap to the face for it. Father seemed angry enough to not notice— or perhaps he just needed someone to speak with.
Yagi-san was a scientist just like Father. He was a creator, and Izuku was his creation. Izuku was a highly complex, highly sought out robot. It explained his unnatural beauty. He was more beautiful than Shoto— who was also a creation. He wondered why that was.
Though, that was not why Father was angry. Izuku was somehow better than Shoto. Solely because he was made up of metal and wire, and ran on solar energy, while Shoto physically had to recharge by sleeping during the nights. Shoto was also not made up of wire and metal, but of leaves and straw. He was weaker than Izuku was— less complex. He was, in his Father’s eyes, a representation of his failure as a scientist.
When he said that, it hurt Shoto’s feelings. And that same night, it gave him a lot to think about.
He thought about Izuku, and about Father. He had given him specific orders to never speak to the robot when he was allowed to go out into the real world on the anniversary of his first year of life. But Shoto found that he did not want to do that.
For the first time in his life, Shoto did not want to obey.
Thinking of Izuku was making his heart hurt again. His voice, his eyes, his hair— he really was pleasing to the eye. He was better than him in every single way possible.
Shoto realized then that he was supposed to hate Izuku because he was better than him. Because Father would prefer an Izuku over a Shoto. That should have been enough to make Shoto resent the robot.
But it was not. The feelings Shoto was feeling were not in accordance with the emotion ‘ hate’ .
They corresponded with ‘love’ instead.